of comfort
really quite refreshing this warm summer day.

What! don't you know him! Ah, yes--I see you recollect Frank Leland,
our modern Coelebs.

He seems struck by the appearance of the old farm-house; its repose
is, no doubt, delightful to him; and now, choosing a favorable
position within the shade of a fine old tree, opens his portfolio, and
commences to sketch the charmingly rural scene. And, indeed, so intent
is he upon his task that the sun has already sunk behind the trees,
and gentle twilight steals on with her starry train ere he rests from
his employment. Then the old farmer comes out on the porch to take
his evening pipe; and the good dame sits by his side with her
knitting, and the sweet voice of Ursula warbles a simple ballad to
please the ears of the aged pair. The young man bares his brow to the
delicious breath of evening, and carefully placing his sketch within
the portfolio, saunters on toward the little gate. And now Ursula
hushes her song, and the old man advances with friendly greeting,

"Walk in, stranger--walk in. I should think you might be the young man
I heard tell of to-day in the village--a teacher of something--I
forget the name."

"A teacher of drawing," said Leland, smiling, as he took a seat on the
bench by the side of the old man.

"Drawing, _eh_! And what may that be, young sir--some new-fangled
notion, I'll be bound."

"This may, perhaps, explain better than I can tell you," replied
Leland, placing the sketch he had just taken in the hand of the old
man.

"Why, wife--why, bless my soul! why, if I should not think this was
our old house! Why, stranger, if ever I see any thing so like in my
born days!"

"Goody gracious preserve me, if it an't, sure enough!" said the dame,
putting on her spectacles, and eagerly looking over the old man's
shoulder. "My stars and garters, Hetty, look here--for all the world
just like it--did you ever!"

The more practiced eye of Ursula detected at once a master-hand in the
sketch before her; and looking admiringly upon it, she could not
refrain from exclaiming, "How beautiful!" while Hetty gazed with
silent wonder upon the stranger who by the magic of his pencil thus
portrayed the home of her childhood.

The contents of the portfolio were now spread out upon the grass, and
our masquerading _millionaire_ was greatly amused at the _naivete_ the
old people displayed, and not a little flattered by the pleasure with
which _one_ at least of the